Joorzahfrul
by karkashan
Summary: She cast me from the top of the mountain as our battle began. Dragon of the North, indeed. So she seeks my death. Very well, it is her choice, and I accept it. But I will accept it in the way of my kind. This day, Ysmir, you shall truly know what it means to fight a legendary dragon! Power to the victor, death to the loser, and honor to us both.


"It is to be a real fight then," I hear another of the dov say to _her_ as I shake myself free of the rubble from the now partially demolished High Hrothgar, "Good!"

_Curse Never Dying_

I feel a rumble in my throat. A kind of rumble I haven't heard for thousands of years. It feels alien to me in one respect. Yet to the rest of me, the majority of who I am, it's like I'm finally remembering who I really am. So it is to be a real fight then, indeed.

"Fo, Krah Diin!" I say with an almost tentative hopefulness to my shouted words. My enemy, of course, does not disappoint me in the slightest. Before the frost can even reach her, she tilts her head back and gathers the words together.

"Sos, Jul Fein!" she says with an authoritative snap, and in the instant my frost-tinted voice reaches her, the veins upon her body glow brightly with energy, and the magic is absorbed. I chuckle darkly at this. So, the personal shout created by her first kill in memento of his fallen friend has migrated from his memory to hers after all this time, has it?

_Allegiance Strong Hunt_

I charge forward, no doubt faster than my foes expected, and my horn pierces the female's abdomen. I rip my head back, and the daedric armor she had spent so much time forging rips away just as rags do from flesh when a mortal is torn apart by one of my kind.

A warm glow of light envelops her body, but not due to what I had expected, which was her death and the subsequent absorption of her soul. Instead, it appears she had placed quite the powerful enchantment on her armor, so that if it were ever destroyed, a healing spell of unprecedented magnitude would knit her torn flesh back together in the span of a triplet of moments.

Her helmet is torn off due to my attack, and as I dodge the shout of my stained-by-Soul Cairn brother, I can see her hair, bright as a new dawn, billowing around her blood-soaked face. Her eyes narrow and it is then that I feel hatred towards the kel, the Elder Scroll, for the only time in my life.

"Joor, Zah Frool!" she says in retaliation, and although I try to quickly claw my way into the sky in order to avoid it, I know it is useless.

_Dragon of North_

Enemies. Two of them growl before me.

Insects. Four of them try to calm me.

Force, Balance, Push. The worms and their rocky hut are shoved to the side of the mountain. Their audacity knows no limits! They are but Joor, not even Dovahkiin! Why do I, the master of their order, need to concern myself with them? Wait, why am I their master?

"Joor, Zah Frool!"

The implications of mortality and death once more rip through me, and I once more care not for their existence. There is but the dov before me! She has issued a cry, a shout in the desire of my death. It is only fitting that I return the favor!

"Faas, Ru Maar!" I speak and the reality of the words rushes forth to meet the form of my foe. I see the magic take hold over her, and emboldened by this I rush forward once more so that I might tear her in twain.

Her courage, however, is unassailable. I see the ancient axe in her hand, and the words that forced me to accept that mortality exists once more rips through my soul. In the next moment, her blade has ripped through my flesh and has torn out my throat.

The next moment, I no longer have a body. I am weightless, and now a part of her. But in the moment before I am fully absorbed, I speak to her the words of the Thu'um. A final gift from me for her confrontation with my former lord.

When she shouts my name, the blade that is made from my bones will be in her hands. The joor will never be so foolish as to call her a toothless dov when the words 'Ambition, Overlord, Cruelty' cause the fang of a dovah to appear in her hand.

* * *

_Durnehviir_

_Mirmulnir_

_Dovahsebrom_

_Paarthurnax_

_By our bond, forged in blood and soul, Alduin will fall._

* * *

_THE END_


End file.
